As dusk drained the sky of its colour, two vampires stirred in their coffins in the large basement of the Zograf mansion.

The female got up and yawned widely, her fangs flashing as they caught in the candle light, her silky hair falling out of her face.

Don peeked at her from his coffin. Once again, he didn’t remember where he was or how he’d got there. It didn’t really matter either, since he had spent the night in a comfortable coffin with another vampire in the room -- an incredibly sexy vampire, by the smell of it.

He smiled as a glimpse of last night flashed through his mind. It was safe to say that he and the she vampire had had a lot of fun. Don winced as he sat up in his coffin. He ached all over, which could only mean that last night had been a lot of fun indeed.

“Morning, sleepy head.” Said the other vampire in a voice soft as silk.

He couldn’t help noticing that she kept herself hidden in the shadows so that he could just about make out the sidelines of her face. Don racked his brain for any memory of who this vampire might be, but he could not, for the life of him, remember who it was that had shared his coffin for some time last night.

“Who are you?” he asked.

She smiled as she took a step towards him. Excitement bubbled up inside him at the thought of catching a glimpse of her face. He didn’t dare blink in case he’d miss it. But she remained in the shadows.

“You don’t remember?” she whispered huskily.

Don shook his head. “No.”

The vampire let out a quiet giggle. He recognised that giggle from somewhere, he had heard it before…

Could this possibly be… Ilsa Vella? The thought of it made his lips curl into a seductive smirk. Don, he thought, you have scored BIG TIME!!

“Why don’t you come out of those shadows and we can repeat what happened last night?”

She giggled again, which sent sparks shooting up his spine.

Encouraged, he said in a low voice, “But we have to be quiet. We don’t want anyone to here us now, do we? I’m guessing this isn’t your house exactly.”

“The house is empty. Nobody else is here except for you and me.” Came her silky voice from the shadows.

Don raised an eyebrow. “Can I take that as a yes?”

She laughed. “Maybe.”

“Come here, yo--” but words failed him when Sybell Vellous finally stepped out of the shadows, looking more attractive than any being he had ever seen before.

George and Sally fell in love and never had any conflicts and had two children and nice boring jobs and a dog and lived in a nice house which they traded for a mansion where they spent their golden years surrounded by their many grandchildren.

It was quite nice, really.

The end.

A writer is a perverse creature. We always want to add, and then the Martians attacked. Or Sally had an affair with the milkman, or their kids turned out to be robot duplicates. Or something.

Otherwise, who cares?

Kurt Vonnegut said you should not be afraid to torture your characters, and really make them suffer. Because that's what makes your readers keep reading, that's what makes them identify with them.

Are we a sick race or what? :blink:

muffin-tacos - December 3, 2007 03:57 PM (GMT)

Too true, too true.

I sometimes feel a bit mean, making my sims so unhappy all the time (especially when I want to get some good pictures for the chapter). All I'm going to say is: thank goodness for the maxmotives cheat!

QUOTE (SBW)

We always want to add, and then the Martians attacked.

... Or and then the vampires attacked. :rolleyes:

And about the sick race bit, I totally agree. Humans are the only race that kills their own kind, which really is sick. Also, we constantly make things harder for ourselves. In the beginning, life was about finding a mate and breeding. Now life is about not only finding a mate and (possibly) having offspring, but also to get a good education, a good job, a house, a car, the new Sims 2 game... Or whatever.